


A Trip to Ten Acre Field

by subcircus



Category: Torchwood, Worzel Gummidge (TV)
Genre: Community: consci_fan_mo, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 21:49:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subcircus/pseuds/subcircus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto and Jack investigate reports of a talking scarecrow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Trip to Ten Acre Field

**Author's Note:**

> Continuing my consci_fan_mo tradition of crossing Torchwood with random children's TV, for day 3 I give you this and I make no apologies.

_Somewhere in the West Country_

“Sir, when you suggested a daytrip to the country, I’d envisioned a nice picnic, maybe a roll in the hay…”

“Ianto Jones, that is deeply unprofessional of you,” admonished Jack, although it was somewhat lessened by the wicked grin on his face. “We are here on Torchwood business, so it is our sworn duty to investigate any and all anomalies.”

“But a walking, talking scarecrow?” Ianto asked with barely concealed disdain as he scraped what he prayed was mud from the bottom of his shoes.

“Wouldn’t be the first time. There were reports of scarecrows coming alive and killing people in 1913. That was linked to the Doctor and isn’t he our primary objective?” Jack answered as he hopped over a stile into the next field.

It was a lovely field; a typically British field with low stone walls and a gentle slope up to a large oak tree that had probably stood since time immemorial. It had been left to fallow, but still a scarecrow stood sentinel over it; a sorry looking pile of clothes and straw propped against the classic crossed wooden poles. The turnip head was amazingly lifelike though, and Ianto could quite see how people's imaginations might get carried away.

Jack approached the scarecrow, flipped open the cover of his wriststrap with a flourish and took some readings. He examined them for a moment and then gave a shrug.

“Nothing out of the ordinary here,” he said and then pulled the rucksack off his back. “Now, about that picnic...”

Ianto had pulled out a blanket and laid it with a thermos, sandwiches and dessert and the two were just settling down to eat when they heard a voice behind them;

“Any chance of a cup o’ tea and a nice slice o’ cake?”


End file.
